


Stapler

by ltgmars



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-01
Updated: 2011-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-26 00:23:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ltgmars/pseuds/ltgmars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ohno starts to fall asleep at the office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stapler

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://rainbowfilling.livejournal.com/profile)[**rainbowfilling**](http://rainbowfilling.livejournal.com/) at the very last minute because I am a champion, using the prompt "loyalty". [elfiepike](http://archiveofourown.org/users/elfiepike/pseuds/elfiepike) told me to write office!AU Ohno/Aiba, so hopefully Ohno + Aiba will suffice for now.

It still doesn't feel right, Ohno thinks, running his fingertips over the arm of the stapler. He frowns at it, and the way the stapler stares back, unmoved, says more than a reciprocal expression ever could.

Hateful stapler.

Ohno turns to the purchase order on the computer screen in front of him. It looks the same as it did three hours ago, with its blank spots still conspiciously blank and its cursor beating, slow and echoing like a dirge. All the while, Ohno's fingers slide up the cold metal of the stapler and back down again, an unconscious motion he's all too conscious of when his nail doesn't slide along the familiar tracks, bump against the perfectly imperfect grooves that have been at the company as long as he has. All it is, he finds, is smooth.

Smooth. Beat. Smooth. Beat. Smooth. Beat.

He hears a tottering noise to his left, so low and distorted that the words barely register. But then his mind catches up and he recognizes Aiba's voice, light and playful and not without wonder squirming through it. Ohno blinks, and the room returns to normal. All around him are murmurs of deft fingers and hyper-polite speech, whirring desktop fans flushing humid air through the room, a copier on its last legs turning cold paper into hot information. The cursor on his screen is just a cursor, blinking at a normal rate again, and the stapler under his palm isn't offensive just because it isn't _his_ stapler.

"Ohno-kun, you aren't falling asleep over there, are you?"

Ohno lies, and he knows Aiba knows he's lying, because that's what they do when Ohno's been saved from slumber, the way only Aiba can. Ohno's convinced that Aiba's the only reason he hasn't lost his job.

"It's like a gun, isn't it?" Aiba says again, and Ohno understands it right away this time, though he still doesn't understand why he's hearing it.

"What is?" Ohno says, letting his eyes settle on the cursor. He squints at the textboxes and starts to fill them in.

"The new stapler. You can't settle down because you're not used to how it feels."

Ohno smiles to himself, wondering how Aiba could have noticed. It isn't like he'd said anythi... hm? "Wait, how would you know what it feels like to change guns?" He turns and gives Aiba a mock-accusatory look.

With an exaggerated expression on his face, Aiba lifts a finger to his lips. "Secret," he says, grinning. He bursts into breathy giggles, and his eyes crinkle at the edges. Ohno likes them, Aiba's mid-giggle eye crinkles. They make the office seem less cold and tidy, more friendly, as if they're inviting him to fall between them and laugh along.

"A secret, huh?" Ohno says mildly. "Is that how it is?"

"That's how it is." And that's the last of it.

Ohno can hear the fax machine in the corner worrying. It's not sure how to connect to the other side, and it awkwardly winds through a series of dial tones and beeps that won't even work if the other side's not willing to listen. But it seems that the fax machine is lucky this time -- the machine on the other end is the friendly type, open to communication, easy to talk to. The office machine has nothing to worry about.

And as for Ohno... well, Ohno isn't worried to begin with. Because it's Aiba. "Drinks tonight, then?" he says hours later as he's packing up.

"Don't leave me with the bill this time," Aiba says playfully, taking a moment to look up from his filing. "I always end up paying."

Ohno looks over toward the stapler, perched at the edge of his consciousness. Some change isn't bad, if it's with the right person. But when it comes to the bill, Ohno makes no promises.


End file.
